


A Cold Night in Snowdin

by dancing_dazai



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Protective Papyrus, Resets, Sad, Sad Papyrus, Worried Papyrus, i'm a tag whore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:08:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8702302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancing_dazai/pseuds/dancing_dazai
Summary: He liked sitting there, his skeletal legs dangling over the side of the cliff while he stared down at the trees below. He liked sitting down and breathing in the chilly evening air, despite not having the lungs or nose usually required to do so, and he liked the sound of the snow crunching under his weight as he shifted to sit more comfortably. He liked the rustling of the wind through the surrounding trees that caused the rickety old bridge to sway gently, and he adored watching the crystals twinkle on the roof of the cavern above him. He did not like being alone.
A short scene between Papyrus and Frisk based on a few of my personal headcanons. Please don't forget to leave a kudos and feedback!





	

He liked sitting there, his skeletal legs dangling over the side of the cliff while he stared down at the trees below. He liked sitting down and breathing in the chilly evening air, despite not having the lungs or nose usually required to do so, and he liked the sound of the snow crunching under his weight as he shifted to sit more comfortably. He liked the rustling of the wind through the surrounding trees that caused the rickety old bridge to sway gently, and he adored watching the crystals twinkle on the roof of the cavern above him.

He did not like being alone.

Papyrus sighed as he kicked his feet, watching the snow at the edge of the cliff crumble and fall away beneath him, tumbling downwards into the darkness of the cavern. He dropped his head glumly, fidgeting in his heavy armor as he lay back in the snow. Oh, how he dreamed of seeing the real stars. The glittering crystals on the ceiling were nice, true, but he could only guess that they were _nothing_ compared to the vast expanse of space.

Sans used to read him those stories when he was a baby-bones. He'd never really had much interest in quantum physics and “science-y stuff” back then, but it was all they'd had. With Sans working minimum wage at the labs and Papyrus way too young to work for money, they couldn't really afford the luxury of proper books. But Sans would try his best, teaching him the laws of the universe as if they were stories, letting him read about other planets and black holes and supernovas ( _“THE BEST TYPE OF NOVAS!”_ he would declare while Sans laughed at his silliness).

He missed those days, Papyrus realised as he glumly stared up at the ceiling. He missed spending simple days in the house doing nothing with his brother. Eating bad food if it was Papyrus' turn to cook, eating _really_ bad food if it was Sans' turn to cook, or simply laughing at bad reality shows and anime DVDs they found at the dump, washed away by the endless cycle of trash in Waterfall. Sans rarely spent any time at home with him anymore – he was always working overtime at the MTT Resort or the night shift in what Papyrus could only assume was the labs, despite his previous boss's… accident.

Papyrus couldn't really blame Sans for falling asleep at his sentry station, or spending too much time in the basement – he knew the old bag of bones was exhausted. Especially during those last few months, when he seemed to have lost his motivation to work altogether. Papyrus only wished that he could do more, take the responsibility off his shoulders and maybe even–

“What are you doing?” a small, high-pitched voice asked from somewhere nearby. Papyrus' eyes shot open and he bolted upright immediately, splattering the owner of the voice with snow in the process. They let out a yelp as the fresh snow left them feeling frozen and Papyrus gasped in surprise, rushing to stand up. 

“OH MY GOODNESS! _HUMAN?_ ” he cried, using his gloved hand to delicately wipe the snow from Frisk's face and jumper. “OH DEAR, I DO APOLOGISE. I DIDN'T SEE YOU STANDING THERE! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE AWARE OF MY SURROUNDINGS!”

“It's okay, Pap, really,” Frisk said between shivers as Papyrus hastily brushed them down. He stepped back and stood up so he was at his proper height – towering over the tiny human child – before worriedly scratching the back of his neck as he observed them. Their cheeks were flushed red and their striped jumper was wet with melted snow; they shivered uncontrollably as a gust of wind rustled through the trees and Papyrus did his best to smile cheerfully at them, despite his awful mood. After all, he couldn't forget his duty to help civilians as a soon-to-be member of the Royal Guard!

“WORRY NOT, HUMAN! HERE YOU GO!” He undid his tattered, orange scarf without hesitation and carefully wrapped it round the child's shoulders, causing Frisk to freeze in place with the shock of what he'd just done. Despite the hundreds of Resets – despite the endless different events that had occurred in the endless different timelines – Papyrus had _never_ given up his scarf. Not _once_.

“B-but,” Frisk stammered, partly from surprise and partly from the cold as they clutched the scarf around them, “but it's so special to you!”  


Papyrus chuckled.

“NYEH HEH HEH. YOU'VE BEEN TALKING TO MY BROTHER, HAVEN'T YOU?” He smirked. “WELL, YOU'RE RIGHT, IT IS INDEED VERY SPECIAL TO ME. DON'T GET EXCITED ABOUT KEEPING IT.” He sat down by the cliff again, his legs precariously swinging over the edge like they were before, as he patted the soft snow on the ground next to him.  
“CARE TO SIT WITH ME A WHILE, HUMAN?”

Frisk swallowed the nervous lump in their throat, unsure about all of this. There were so many new events taking place in one run; they weren't sure of what to do next. This wasn't the standard, happy-go-lucky Papyrus that Frisk had grown to love in previous timelines. This was… different. Then again, after so many of these runs, they had been starting to get bored – and Frisk knew what would happen if they got bored. They seriously needed this change of pace. 

Taking their chance while they still had it, Frisk sat down in the snow beside their faithful skeleton friend, and they shared a polite smile before facing forwards, staring out into the dark expanse of Snowdin Cavern. Papyrus sighed.

“IT'S BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?” he asked, his smile bright and his voice as chipper as ever. “SUCH A LOVELY NIGHT FOR… WHATEVER THIS IS.”

Frisk cleared their throat.

“That's a good point actually, Papyrus, what are you doing out here on your own? Shouldn't you be at home with Sans?” 

To their surprise, Papyrus' smile faltered and he directed his eyes down into the darkness of the cavern beneath him.

“ACTUALLY, SANS IS WORKING LATE AT THE RESORT TONIGHT, SO… I CAME OUT HERE! FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON!”

 _That seems a little sketchy, even for Papyrus. He's always been a terrible liar,_ Frisk thought. _What is he hiding?_

By this point, Frisk's interest was piqued. They realised, now, that throughout every timeline and every different turn of events, they had never properly gotten to know Papyrus. What actually went on in his life? What were his goals, what were his fears? What did he do when Sans wasn't around?

“You couldn't have gone to visit a friend? Gone home to watch TV, or make dinner? Anything?” Frisk asked, their curiosity getting the better of them. “Your immediate reaction to Sans not being home is lying in the snow, alone, on the very outskirts of town?” 

Papyrus looked away almost guiltily.

“WELL, NATURALLY, I FELT LIKE THERE WAS NO POINT IN GOING HOME IF HE WASN'T GOING TO BE THERE,” he said, “BUT I SUPPOSE YOU'RE RIGHT. I KNOW THIS IS STUPID, I JUST…”

Papyrus sighed slowly, lowering his head until Frisk could no longer see his face.

“…I'm just so very worried about him.”

The tone of his voice was unheard of – it was no longer the bold, brash nor confident tone Frisk knew, but was instead much quieter now. Softer. Defeated. Frisk began to find continuing the conversation difficult as they stared slightly open-mouth at their friend. But at least now, they had the confidence to ask the real question. The important question. The question that had plagued them since the very beginning of this looping-timeline nightmare.

“Why do you really want to be in the Royal Guard, Papyrus?”

A pause, then came his response. Pyrus drew in a small, steadying breath.

“Human,” he began, his voice still gentle and soft – an alien register Frisk had never heard him use before. “Do you know how many jobs Sans has?”

Of course they knew; they'd always known. However, Frisk shook their head slowly to let him speak.

“Three,” he stated, and Frisk's eyes opened wide with genuine surprise. _Wait, what?_

“Nyeh heh, exactly. You wouldn't think a lazybones like him could accomplish that much, would you?” Papyrus sighed and shook his head.

“Well, the truth is that Sans works incredibly hard. He works the night shift at the Mettaton Resort, helps the Royal Scientist out in the labs, _and_ he's a part-time sentry in Snowdin forest. Not to mention he also runs a hot dog stand and sells Shyren’s concert tickets – I wouldn't tell anyone about that, mind you. That is slightly hush-hush, nyeh heh, heh...” His chuckle tapered off and his smile quickly turned into a grimace. He turned to Frisk, expression open and genuine. 

“He does so much for me, Human. He sacrifices everything for others and always gets nothing back. I mean, have you seen the state of his room? It doesn't just look like that because he can't be bothered to clean it, you know.” Frisk actually hadn't realised that before, but now it sort of made sense. 

No wonder his room was so barren and empty. All of his hard-earned money went straight to Papyrus.

“So you want to join the Royal Guard, not for your own personal benefit, but for Sans?” Frisk asked incredulously. “So that he doesn't feel as much pressure to support you?” Papyrus nodded.

“It is surprisingly well-paying, being a Royal Guardsman,” he admitted as he looked down at his swinging legs. “But in all honestly, if we're talking about personal gain, I would much prefer to be a star like Mettaton.”

He looked out across the cavern wistfully.

“All those fans...”

Frisk felt their Soul shatter into a hundred pieces as if they'd just taken a spear to the face, dismissing the sudden urge to Reset and pretend this never happened. Small tears suddenly began to drip from their eyes and a sob escaped from their lips, causing Papyrus to turn his head towards them. His face instantly drained of the little colour it had and Frisk could tell that he was trying to put up his defensive, happy-go-lucky façade. 

“WAIT, HUMAN, ARE YOU– _OOF!_ ”

Papyrus didn't have time to finish his sentence before Frisk launched themselves at him, jumping up and wrapping their arms around him in the most comforting hug they could muster.

“You and Sans,” they murmured, holding on to him as if they were scared he'd dust in their arms. “You're going to be okay. This'll all blow over, and you'll both be happy, and you'll make it to the Surface, and it'll all be worth it, I _promise_.”

After realising that Frisk wasn't planning on letting go any time soon, Papyrus accepted his fate and hugged the child back. He sighed, inhaling the scent of his own, beloved scarf – the one Sans made for him out of the only material he could find at the time – and sighed with relief.

“Human, for all of our sakes, I hope you're right.”


End file.
